


Mystrade: Face to Face with the Government

by bbhrupp



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: After Reichenbach, Developing Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Fluff, Greg Lestrade - Freeform, M/M, Mpreg, Mycroft Holmes - Freeform, NOT OMEGAVERSE, Pre-Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Preg!Greg, Sherlock Holmes - Freeform, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson - Freeform, Un-natural Pregnancy, mrs hudson - Freeform, mystrade, naww, parentstrade, pregnant greg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2018-02-17 08:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 15,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2303750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbhrupp/pseuds/bbhrupp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Mystrade mpreg! but this time Greg is the one that's pregnant. Starts Pre-Mystrade. It's not omegaverse or carriers, instead it's one of Sherlock's "experiments" and Greg did not consent to it at all. How will they all react? And how will Greg cope. Can be read from Chapter Four onwards if you don't want Pre-Mystrade. The plot still makes sense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Man With the Umbrella

**Author's Note:**

> So I read this fic that was Johnlock Mpreg and John had gotten pregnant via one of Sherlock's experiments. I thought this was pretty cool way of doing things so I applied it to my OTP: Mystrade. It's mainly fluff but it could.. "advance". We'll see...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had been another busy week. Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade sat glumly in his office. Christmas was coming and he was still struggling for money as most of it was now the property of his ex-wife. It didn't help that Anderson had been mocking him all week by persistently playing "Sweet Caroline" on his old cassette player every morning. The only thing Greg Lestrade had to look forward to was the "Dinner party" he had been invited to by a Mr Sherlock Holmes. It was undoubtedly going to be awful but it was still something to look forward to. Tired and fed up, Lestrade picked up his suitcase and left for his small, one room flat. Like a day of homicides was going to lighten his mood.....

The days went quickly and soon it was Christmas Eve...

"Sherlock! Come on, they'll be here soon!" John called up the stairs before going back to check on the dinner. He was wearing another awful Christmas jumper that Sherlock had insisted many times he should burn. This only made John wear it more as it was entertaining to irritate "The Great Sherlock Holmes". After clumsily stumbling down the stairs, a rather dazed Consulting Detective walked into the living room. He had been up all night dealing with a rather exciting case.

John turned towards him, irritated to see him standing there in just his sheet...again.

"Sherlock!?!"

Sherlock yawned before responding with a muffled "what?"

"You can't wear that! For god sake put some clothes on, we’re going to have company!"

"....and?"

"And usually, people who have company don't stand there in sheets! It’s rude Sherlock, don’t be ridiculous"

"....should I put the purple shirt on?"

"....what?"

"The purple shirt. You like the purple shirt."

"Sherlock, I don’t care what it is, just throw anything on!"

"....I have... I threw on a sheet."

John put down the frying pan, in which he had bacon cooking, and went to shove Sherlock out of the room.

"Go and get dressed, NOW!!" John couldn't help but smirk as Sherlock sulked away back to his room, trying desperately hard not to trip on his sheet and reveal all whilst going upstairs.

"Oh dear... Being a nuisance again is he?" Mrs Hudson smiles to John as she appeared just outside the door to the flat, she looked so sweet and innocent in her little woollen dress with reindeer on.

"You could say that Mrs Hudson. Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh yes! Of course dear" She smiled and went up the stairs, there she helped herself to the teapot.

  


********************************

  


It was just another morning for Greg Lestrade. The alarm went off and he fell out of bed trying to shut it up. Ever since his divorce his life had gone down hill. He'd given up his home to pay off debts and was now in an old apartment above a Chinese takeaway. He was no more happier about the fact that today he would have to wear his Christmas jumper, the same one he had worn for the past five years since no one had been bothered to buy him a new one and he wasn't exactly one of those people to go and do so himself. He sighed as he packed up Christmas presents into a bag, the last of his money went on gifts for his friends. At least he knew that they were happy, that lifted him a little.

  


********************************

  


The doorbell went.

"I'll get it!" John ran out to the door. Meanwhile Mrs Hudson was laughingat Sherlock who was frowning at the fact that John had made him wear the jumper he was so eager to annihilate. He glared at her as he sipped his tea from the "Merry Christmas" mug she had picked specially for the occasion.

"Good evening John." Mycroft entered looking his usual smart self only today he wore a tie with little elves on. "And how is my dear brother?" He said as he hung his coat up on the wall.

"Still sulky, still Sherlock" John smiled just thinking about him.

"The usual attitude then I guess" He smirked, taking a moment to note John’s expression, and entered the apartment.

Sherlock sighed and turned his head to look out the window as his brother entered.

"Who were you expecting? Saint Nicholas?" Mycroft joked as he sat opposite his brother. "Didn't Mummy ever tell you not to believe in legends Sherlock" He smirked as Sherlock turned to him with a look of pure and utter hate.

"Now you two behave! I'll have no arguing today!" Mrs Hudson piped up, giving both of the brothers a glare.

"Don't you worry Mrs Hudson, I'm sure Sherlock is secretly pleased with my presence" Sherlock glared at Mycroft before sipping his tea again. The doorbell went off again and John was there in a flash.

"Greg! I'm so glad you could turn up, finally someone else who can deal with Sherlock’s madness!"

"Haha! It's good to see you too John" He shook his hand as he walked inside. John noticed the bag full of gifts in his other hand.

"Oh Greg you shouldn’t have! should I take those?"

"Please do!" He handed the bag to John who hurried to put them under their make-shift tree.

Lestrade stood in the corridor for moment. He told himself that everything would be fine, took in a deep breath and made his way up the stairs.

Inside, the battle of brothers had begun again...

"I like the jumper. One of John's? How sweet!"

"The tie, one of Mummy's Christmas gifts?" Mycroft's face dropped as Sherlock put on a smile "How sweet!"

”Do you talk ill of Mummy dear brother? I will have to pass on your regards and see how she responds? Amourably I am sure”

”Brother dearest you know full well that won’t work on me, if it means I get to see the Marriage of Figaro less than 10 time’s a month then send my regards as much as you please!”

”Noted, I will tell her how much you adore Mozart, and indeed any opera, tell her how enthusiastic you are to see such spectacles, I’m sure she would be thrilled!”

Sherlock gasped and lurched forward in his chair “YOU WOULDN’T”

At that moment Greg entered the living room a little tentatively.

"Everything ok in here Mrs Hudson?"

"Greg!" Lestrade made his way into the kitchen ignoring the two brothers who were now exchanging death stares.

"How have you been? I heard the money isn't good, all those cuts to policing! How are you?"

"Oh it's always tight Mrs Hudson" He said grabbing a cup of tea. As he turned and leant against the table he noticed a man (Mycroft) sitting with Sherlock. This was a man he had not seen before. He seemed very posh and of much higher authority than him. He kept an umbrella by his side, though Greg could swear it wasn't raining when he came in. Greg could only presume that this was someone from the Yard who he had just never seen because of his status, he did wonder though... Did sherlock have a brother?

His thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell ringing again. John shot off to answer it again, leaving Greg with a spoon and a pot full of gravy.

Mycroft stopped with the death stares and turned towards the kitchen realising Lestrade was there. "Who is that man?" He thought to himself. The man had silver tufted hair but didn't look older than John, or Sherlock to that matter. He wore a snowman jumper that was slightly tatty and ill-fitted. Somehow, even while stirring a pot of gravy the man seemed rather...attractive.

"Interesting..." Sherlock said to himself, though Mycroft quickly flicked his head back to look at Sherlock who looked like he was onto something...Something hidden in the book of Mycroft Holmes.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing..." Sherlock jumped up and went to stand and look out the window. Mycroft watched him from his seat. He knew, he knew that Sherlock had just read him like a magazine on the shelf. His feelings towards this silver stranger were obvious to his brother.

"Merry Christmas everybody!"

"Oh! Merry Christmas Molly!" As she entered Mrs Hudson went up to embrace her. Behind her two other figures walked in. "And to you too!" Greg frowned as Anderson stepped in. He knew he would be there with Donovan eventually.

"Ah, Greg." Their eyes locked, Greg's filled with irritance. John carefully took the pot of gravy out of the detective's hands. "How's Caroline?" He teased. Mycroft noted Greg's anger. Mycroft quickly deduced; ex-wife, the split was not pleasant. Part of him wanted to know more, maybe out of intrigue, but maybe...

  


**********************

  


After a long night the evening ended. It was... Interesting. Sherlock had only managed to offend three of the guests, which was impressive for him. Best of all Greg had survived the dinner party without having a mental breakdown. Maybe this was something to do with the mysterious man who had been there the entirety of his stay....

Greg had nothing to rush home for so, when all the guests started to leave and John and Sherlock had fallen asleep on the sofa in eachother's arms, Greg was left alone with, whom he could only describe as "The smart umbrella man". There he sat, sipping tea so elegantly it was almost...cute.

Lestrade didn't know what he could possibly say to start a conversation and hoped the man would start talking to break this awkward silence...which he did.

"It's Lestrade isn't it" Lestrade turned to face the man. "Gregory Lestrade, the detective? From Scotland Yard" He then stood up and walked over, taking the umbrella with him, to greet him "I don't believe we've met"

Greg stumbled to find his words "Y-Yes... It is and, um.. No I don't believe we have!"

The man smiled at this response "My brother speaks of you often Detective Lestrade" Mycroft gestured towards the sofa, almost as if...

"Oh! So Sherlock’s your..."

Mycroft raised an eyebrow at Greg's sudden exclamation.

"I mean...uh...He does? Haha, All bad things I bet..."

When Greg looked up, the other man seemed to be studying him. He couldn't quite tell but it looked like he was enjoying what he was seeing.

After a moment, Mycroft broke the silence.

"No, no! Not always...well...Ignore him, he does exaggerate...though, don't we all when we're annoyed?"

Greg wasn't sure how he felt about that statement, he really could not deny Sherlock's exaggeration usage was immense. Sherlock Holmes was very..."Over the Top". He often enjoyed showing off his intelligence and making other people feel small. Greg had presumed all of the family would be like this but this man, he seemed kinder and somewhat more knowing of the world, it was a calming addition to his usual crowd.

"Well, It was a delight to finally see you Detective Lestrade" He said the words so elegantly, as if Greg was someone important and valued.

"And you" As Mycroft went for the exit Greg quickly grabbed the oppurtunity to ask.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?" Then, without flaw or fault, the man said so beautifully...

"Mycroft Holmes, it’s pleasure to meet you"


	2. Melting The Ice Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg and Mycroft arrange a date

Mycroft Holmes, The British Government, sat in his office with his head in his hands. He couldn't concentrate and he knew very well why. This "Detective Lestrade" fellow had interested him in a way he'd never been before. Mycroft wasn't quite sure wether he should enjoy it or not... Oh this really was... _inconvenient_. For now he was worried about what would happen to the government if he carried on being only able to search for said detective on the internet and read all those interesting posts about the things the silver fox had achieved. Nothing else interested him, not today.

"I must do something" He said to himself. He had to see Greg again...but there had to be a reason other than curiosity... What if he created a crime? No... That would make him just as bad as Jim Moriarty himself! Perhaps he could inquire after his brother? He did still care about the young Holmes despite all that had happened between them...

"This is...ridiculous...There are much more important things." He kept telling himself.

"Caring is not an advantage..."

  


***************************

  


The Yard seemed slightly more relaxed on the first day back after the new year. It was time for new beginnings and none knew this more than Detective Lestrade. He hadnt heard from his wife in over a fortnight and Greg could swear there was more money in his account...But how was that possible? The cases where nothing spectacular. Sherlock had been in with John all day, they were finishing off another case case. The pair had gotten considerably closer over Christmas. There had been a lot of hand holding and Greg daren't imagine what else.

Before Sherlock left he snuck into Lestrade’s office placed a note on his desk with a phone number scrawled on it and insisted he should call it.

"But, Sherlock I don't understand!"

"You are going to call this man and ask him out on a date, what more is there to understand Graham?"

"Greg"

"They all sound the same..."

"But I don't even know if I like that sort of thing! I was married Sherlock, married to a woman!"

"And that relationship so unfortunately ended" He smiled and spoke to Greg as though he were a child "Now you can start this one!"

"But-"

"GOODBYE GARY!"

Sherlock swept out of the room leaving Greg rather stunned. He sighed and dialled the number...

  


***************************

  


Mycroft stared at the phone. A number he didn't recognise... Maybe it was a salesperson? Or perhaps it was a threat from a criminal! Mycroft had gotten many of those in the past... A friend? No, Mycroft didn't have friends. Anyway, it would be rude not to answer...

  


****************************

  


"Good Evening, this is Mycroft Holmes speaking, and who may this be?"

_"Mycroft?"_

Mycroft perked up upon hearing Greg's voice. It was one he could not forget. "Gregory!" He realised he was sounding slightly too enthusiastic and calmed down. "It's nice to hear from you Detective Lestrade. Is there something you require?"

 _"Oh no, I don't need anything"_ What? No one had ever called Mycroft before without asking for something! Well...apart from his mother...

"Oh, Then what is it?"

 _"I just wondered"_ Dare he ask? Greg paused to think. There was something about Mycroft Holmes, he felt something for him but was it what Sherlock had suggested? Well there was only one way to find out... _"If you'd like to have coffee some time?"_

Mycroft hesitated, taking a moment to work out if the things happening were actually real. He was being asked out for coffee...asked out...this was...a date? He was being asked on a date? By an attractive man? Surely not, surely he was thinking too fast, or was he? Nevertheless he could feel his heart beating out of his chest.

"Coffee? With you?" 

_"Yeah"_

"Well... I'm not impartial to a cup"

Of all the things to say. Greg let out a small laugh and this was a comfort to the elder Holmes brother.

_"Ok then, I'm quite busy so...next week?"_

"That sounds perfect Gregory." Mycroft narrowly avoided adding "dear". He really did like this man, yet he knew so little about him. He didn't even know that, despite what he thought, the Detective felt exactly the same about him...

  


****************************

  


The pair had decided to meet at a quaint little cafe that was tucked away behind the loud and busy streets of London, notably it was Greg’s favourite café. Nothing too fancy, but everything equally as delicious, he would argue the tea was the best in Barnet, Mycroft would argue it was hard to find on the map...

Naturally he was overdressed, but the again he always overdressed, however when he found the place and caught sight of Lestrade he’d never felt it more. He looked so perfect in his ragged shirt and ruffled hair, so laid back and open. What if Mycroft were to give the wrong impression?

He pulled himself together both physically and emotionally and stepped inside the cosy café, smells of hot chocolate and cake invaded his senses, god the cake smelled delicious. He pretended not to have seen Greg so as not to seem keen; he remembered reading in one of the many self-help books that seeming keen was a bad thing and needed to be juggled delicately. Unfortunately none of the authors had described how.

”Mycroft! Over here!” Greg smiled and waved “I got us the window seat, hope you don’t mind”

”No, not at all, it’s lovely” He said as he walked over and sat opposite the Detective. The light from the window was caressing his date so gently, showing every inch of beauty, he could sit here all day “...lovely”

Greg blushed “I’ve uh...already ordered, I didn’t know how long you were gonna be, I can still get you something if you want? Tea? Coffee? Cake?”

”No cake for me, I’m on a strict diet?”

”Oh...are you ill?”

Mycroft couldn’t understand the concern on Greg’s face.

”No, I am in perfect health, why would you assume otherwise?”

”Well...to me you don’t look like you need to be on a diet”

That comment really should not have made Mycroft blush as much as it did.

”Really Detective Lestrade, you’re too kind”

”Please, call me Greg” he smiled “I’ll go order that cake” and winked. Mycroft was sure his heart might explode...or at very least melt and start beating for two ❤️


	3. The Vows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft and Lestrade get married.  
> [Warning, some language ahead kids]

"John!?! The taxi's here dear! Are you both ready?"

"One second Mrs Hudson!"

John straightened his waistcoat and quickly put on the grey jacket over it. The occasion had finally arrived and he felt he had to look his best. He grabbed the ornately wrapped gift from on his bed and ran down the stairs as quickly as he could to find...

"SHERLOCK!"

The lack of response sent him into a frenzy to find the consulting detective. He was probably doing something ridiculously clever and brilliant but once again at a _very_ inappropriate time... And low and behold, in the kitchen... 

"Sherlock?"

"....what?"

"This is no time for experiments!"

"But John, it's for the-"

"Sherlock Holmes, nothing you can say will persuade me that _that_ " John gestured towards the strange pink liquid that Sherlock was 'brewing' as it bubbled, almost spilling out of the testube "has _anything_ to do with your brother's wedding!"

"Shh John! I'm thinking..." 

  


**************

  


Greg looked himself up and down in the mirror. He seemed almost too smart... The last time he had been this well dressed he had been a small boy, dragged to an opera by his grandparents. Even for his first wedding he was a little...rough round the edges. Though this was supposed to be the best day of his life, in truth he just wanted it to be over. All this traditional fuss over a simple ceremony had been driving him nuts. He was looking forward to the honeymoon where he could finally relax with his lover. His husband. _His_ Mycroft Holmes. Just the mere though of it brought a beaming smile to his face.

He had never imagined the elder Holmes could show as much affection as he had shown him so willingly. Behind that mask, behind the impression he gave to the world, he was delicate and ultimately...adorable. Knowing this only made Greg even more impressed with how powerful he came across to his peers, and to be honest anyone...

  


Mycroft himself had never thought he could find anyone to open up to. Until Greg, he had disagreed with just about everyone... But Sherlock was right, he did need a goldfish. Greg was more than just a simple goldfish to Mycroft though. He was the man to come home for. So while he fastened his waistcoat and combed his ginger hair, he couldn't help but reminisce the past months...and also remember how it was before...

There was often a night he would sit alone, in silence. He would think about calling his brother but, that would be giving in...wouldn't it? If he wasn't powerful and in control, who was he? So there would be know showing of weakness, like affection, though it broke him to be alone...

Then there was Greg.

His father's words sprinted back and forth in his head that day "Caring is not an advantage, caring is not an advantage" but does that really ring true? He could safely say that when the Detective unexpectedly kissed him he felt he could have toppled a thousand governments. Surely that is an advantage? And though caring may tear apart the giver, the reciever is lifted by it, and surely the sight of this lifts the giver? It certainly made Mycroft happier, knowing that if anything happened to Greg he would be right there to give first class medical service and personally have who, or what caused it destroyed immediately. Maybe caring is an advantage...

  


The pair had been dating for well over a year, and it had truly been a whirlwind. After only a few weeks of seeing eachother, Mycroft had invited Greg to a conference in Vienna. Even though they barely saw eachother, Greg enjoyed exploring Vienna and seized every opportunity to be the typical tourist, this only made Mycroft love him more when he returned to the hotel with bags full of cheap novelty souvenirs. To put it lightly, they consummated their relationship several times in that bed and the trip holds fond memories for both of them.

On Greg’s Birthday Mycroft presented him with a promise ring, emerald and silver, a simple ring with a pure and binding emotional meaning. Naturally neither of them took theirs off...until...

  


**************

  


**2 Months Earlier**

  


The sound of his cellphone rattling on his desk woke Greg from his post-doughnut snooze, it had been a busy day again, and now Sherlock was calling...great. He lazily answered the call, hoping it was nothing too ridiculous.

”What is it now Sherlock?”

Sherlock’s voice was muffled on the other end of the line, and there were...noises, almost as if he was...was he crying?  
Greg quickly sat up and clicked into his serious gear.

”Sherlock? What is it? Has something happened? Where are you?”

His voice was almost a whisper “Warehouse 47, Graham Road, come alone, it’s not safe” Greg felt conflicted, why come alone if it wasn’t safe? All he could do was trust Sherlock.

“Alright, I’ll be there, can you tell me what happened? Or is there someone...listening”

”It’s Mycroft”

It felt as though the whole world fell quiet in anticipation of Greg’s last question.

”Mycroft? What’s happened to Mycroft?”

”...He’s been shot...”

  


He didn’t feel the phone slip out of his hands, nor hear it crack against the floor, he didn’t feel his feet move to carry him out of the office, or his hands slipping into this coat. He didn’t hear Anderson and Donovan asking where he was going in such a hurry, he didn’t feel like he was running. All he felt was empty, completely and utterly empty. He didn’t notice that he ran a red light and cut corners, or hear how loud he had turned on the sirens, he didn’t sense anything but emptiness.

Greg kicked open the door to Warehouse 47 like it was made of pathetic polystyrene, he was angry, finally an emotion. To his surprise the Warehouse was empty, where were they? Where was Sherlock? Where was Mycroft?

There was a creak from behind him and Greg instinctively spun round, slickly pulling his gun out of the holster and aiming it at...nothing. What was going on? Had they left?

Out of nowhere came a loud bang, echoing out from the ceiling. Adhering to bomb protocol, the DI cursed under his breath as he closed his eyes and curled up into a ball, hands over head, on the floor. There was a light feeling on his back, like he had been covered with something, probably debri from the explosion. He tentatively opened his eyes to see the floor covered in red. Was he bleeding? No, wait, that wasn’t blood...what the..wait...is that?

”SON OF A BITCH!”

Rose petals, the floor was full of rose petals. In a huff he stood up and dusted himself off, watching as the petals fell from every inch of his body.

”Alright Sherlock, you’ve had your joke, very funny, can I leave now?”

”I’d rather you didn’t”

What? That was Mycroft’s voice? Was he part of this? God, he would kill him. What kind of bastard tricks their partner into thinking they’re injured? Greg took a deep breath to calm the rage before he turned furiously to face Mycroft.

“WHAT THE HELL MYCR-oh, you...what?”

Mycroft was on one knee, and in a suit? And he swear he could hear strings?

”Gregory Lestrade” He started softly “You have-“*SLAP* 

”You bloody idiot! Bastard!”

Mycroft rubbed his cheek and looked up at Greg in confusion.

”Is this too soon? I am sorry, I did not realise you would be upset”

”Oh don’t act like you don’t know, you got Sherlock to call and tell me you were shot so I would be here! Do you think you’re the king of romance or something? It was awful Mycroft, I thought you were going to die!”

Greg started to crack at the thought, and in an instance Mycroft was up and beside him.

”Darling accept my apologies, I merely told Sherlock to get you here, I didn’t realise he would go to such drastic measures.”

”...So...you didn’t want me to think you were shot?”

”Not for a single moment my darling, all that I wanted was to ask for your hand in marriage, may I...may I continue?”

The Detective looked over at him with a rather stunned expression, all these emotions were happening so suddenly. Hesitantly he nodded.

”Very well...Gregory” Elegantly, Mycroft knelt back down onto one knee...

  


**************

  


"You may now kiss!"

"Quick John! Cover your eyes!"

John's hand hit the back of Sherlock's head just as the newlywed's lips collided in a much awaited snog. Their family and friends cheered and applauded the couple who seemed in absolute bliss. Mrs Hudson threw her hat in the air quite over-enthusiasticly as they walked, smiles beaming, down the aisle. Despite planning to avoid any kind of affection, Sherlock felt himself give in as he realised this was the happiest Mycroft had ever been. It was the start of a great journey. Neither of the Lestrade-Holmeses could have imagined a at would happen next...

  


**************

  


"Well, that was surprisingly..."

"Calm?"

"That is a word for it..."

Mycroft Holmes stared up at the ceiling from their hotel bed. 

"Gregory"

"Mmm?" Greg rolled over, wrapping his arms around Mycroft and looking up at him with those deep brown eyes.

"How do you feel about children?"


	4. Just a Little Surgery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg wakens in Sherlock's apartment. What has he done now?

The sun shone through the window and into Greg's eyes, waking him from a good night's sleep. It had been five months since the best day of his life, his marriage to Mycroft Holmes. The man was everything he had dreamed of, perhaps even more so now he knew him. He moaned and tried to roll over in a desperate attempt to gain a little bit more energy only to find that he couldn't as there was a weight holding him down. It was then he realised... What the hell was he doing in Sherlock's flat? Why the hell was he on his sofa? And still in his pyjamas!?!? 

He looked over to see Sherlock himself was sat at the kitchen table looking through a microscope.

"Sherlock! What the hell!" He yelled but lightly as it would seem he was short of breath. He then started to feel an achy pain from his lower abdomen. Greg gasped and tried to move the heavy white sheet from on top of him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you..." Sherlock refrained from changing position.

"Sherlock what have you done!?!"

"Just a little surgery Geoff"

"Greg!"

"Whatever..." Lestrade suddenly realised what had just been said. His eyes widened and he went quite pale.

"Surgery?" He choked "Wh-What do you mean surgery!?!" He managed to lift the sheet to see many deep, stitched up, wounds on his abdomen. "Sherlock!" The detective fought the urge to rise quickly and attack Sherlock as he feared he would only injure himself more. A sudden queasiness came upon him. "Uh... I think I'm going to be sick"

"It's only natural" Greg glared at Sherlock. Rising quickly he yelled...

"SHERLOCK WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE" before falling back quickly in agony.

"Calm down...Greg"

"Calm down!?!" He pulled a spare roll of bandage out of his coat pocket and started wrapping it round himself "I will not bloody calm down! What have you done to me!?!"

"Not you... Mycroft. I've given him the best birthday present, thought he would appreciate it"

Speechless, absolutely speechless. This idiot of a man had cut him open to impress his brother? Yes, he loved his husband but he wasn't sure this was an appropriate way to show it.

"S-sorry?" The man did not respond. "Sherlock.... Could you please explain to me what's going on" He practically begged.

"Congratulations" Stepping away from the microscope, Sherlock smiled towards Greg. The smile was returned with a puzzled look. The younger Holmes then smirked to himself before saying half laughing "I'm going to be an uncle" and leaving the room.

The shock and confusion that built inside of Greg was halted by the sound of his ringtone. It was Mycroft. He quickly answered...

_"Gregory..."_

"Myc I-"

_"How long have you been out"_

"What?"

_"Please answer my question"_

Greg rubbed his head and sighed "I...I don't know"

_"What do you mean you don't know? How can you not know?"_

"Well..." He laughed slightly "to be honest I-"

_"This is not funny Gregory. Would you kindly tell me your location now?"_

"I'm at Baker Street"

_"Baker Street? Well, what are y-"_

"Myc, I don't know why I'm here, I don't know when I got here, I don't know how I got here, why don't you ask your dear brother to fill you in?"

_"...I see, I'll be right there."_

Mycroft hung up the phone.

It only seemed like seconds before Greg turned to see Mycroft standing in the doorway. His face was a picture of shock which was hardly surprising considering the state Greg was currently in. After a moment of silent staring Mycroft managed to ask the question that burned inside of him "Did Sherlock do this?" The DI nodded and Mycroft swiftly vanished up the stairs.

What had Sherlock done to him? He was sure he would soon find out from the sound of the shouting upstairs. Mycroft really was angry and Greg's head teamed with the gruesome genetic things Sherlock could have done.

"WILLIAM SHERLOCK HOLMES, HOW IS THIS RATIONAL!" They were coming down the stairs. "HAVEN'T YOU WISHED FOR THIS TO HAPPEN!?!" "SUPRISINGLY I HAVE NOT!"

Lestrade quickly grabbed his pyjama top and put it on. He expected Mycroft would be rushing him off to some hospital soon. The wounds burned beneath his makeshift dressing. Just as he stood and turned towards the door he was pulled into and embrace by his husband.

"Oh Gregory, I'm so sorry dear..." Softly he spoke. The man had been crying, an action he didn't often do. His grip grew tighter and Greg moaned "Mycroft!... Too tight!" He then quickly moved away spouting a mountain of apologies as Sherlock walked in holding a tissue to his bloody nose.

"You punched him?" Sherlock glared at the both of them.

"Of course... He didn't enquire with either of us before he did this, it's out of order"

"Wait..." Greg walked slowly away from them, thinking, and then spun to face Mycroft "so he mutilated me in some way and you're angry because he didn't ask our permission?"

"Well..." Mycroft thought for a moment then looked at Greg. His eyes widened and he quickly spun to burst out "You haven't told him have you" His expression was that of a rabbit in the headlights. Did he really have to explain what had happened?

"Told me what? Mycroft, told me what!?!" The brothers ignored him

"You bastard" Mycroft yelled at his brother.

"Says the violent one" who then grabbed his coat, briskly putting it on.

"Sherlock Holmes! You get back here this-" The door slammed shut

One of the most powerful men in England turned sheepishly towards a mere detective inspector. He had seen the man angry before but he feared it would be much much worse this time. It would definitely be a different experience anyway.

"Mycroft, are you going to tell me what's going on or am I going to torture it out of you" Mycroft blushed but calmed himself down when he realised his husband didn't mean any of this sexually. He sighed and took in a deep breath.

"Greg... Gregory dear..." The detective's stare grew no softer "We... We're going to be parents"

"...What?... I don't understand, what do you mean?"

"You... You're having a baby Greg. Our baby."


	5. A Normal Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft tries to reason with Greg

**FIVE MONTHS EARLIER**

  


Mycroft Holmes stared up at the ceiling from their hotel bed. 

"Gregory"

"Mmm?" Greg rolled over, wrapping his arms around Mycroft and looking up at him with those deep brown eyes.

"How do you feel about children?"

"Well..." Honestly Greg never thought he'd be having this conversation.

"Well?"

"I wouldn't mind having any...are you thinking of adoption?"

"Sherlock was going on about something earlier today..."

Greg quickly sat up and looked over at Mycroft with concern.

"Are you sure it's a good idea listening to your brother's crazy plots?"

"He went over it with me, it seemed perfectly plausible..."

"Myc, there's a difference between plausible and moral!"

"I do know that Gregory!"

"And anyway, what the hell was he on about!?!"

"He had a theory that, in practice, could allow either of us to bear our own child"

"See? Absolutely crazy!"

"I know, it's ridiculous! But Greg, if it works..."

"Are you really willing to risk it?"

The elder Holmes rolled over to face his husband.

"I would do anything for you Greg"

"But I won't let you Myc. If it's a risk to your health then I won't allow it."

"Right you are dear..."

"Now come here and let me do all the dirty things we certainly can't do with children in the house..." He smirked and pulled Mycroft into an embrace.

Mycroft blushed, but he still couldn't hold back the thought of a mini-Greg running round the house. It quickly passed as the original Greg absolutely and utterly swept him off his feet. He didn't know what he would do if anyone ever hurt his husband. The anger built in him just thinking about it. At that moment, he swore to keep Greg as safe as he possibly could...

  


  


**PRESENT DAY**

  


  


Earl Grey and Herbal Soothers couldn't block out the racket from upstairs. "Oh dear" Mrs Hudson said, sighing and sipping from her fine china. That Sherlock Holmes always did bring noisy people into his flat. She heard a smash of, what seemed to be, pottery and decided to investigate.

The voices... As she walked up the stairs she realised she recognised them, they were no criminals or thugs either.

"It would be just like a normal family!"

"A normal family!?!"

No, at least one of them had been brought up in a posh society. Mrs Hudson was good at telling these things through tones of voice and clarity. There it was again, more pottery. She opened the door slowly waiting for the "NOT NOW MRS HUDSON" that she didn't get.

There in the room was Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade, collapsed on the sofa with his head in his hands, and his husband Mycroft, standing close by and staring down at him. It was obvious from his expression that he didn't know what to say or do.

"What’s going on in here? You’re making an awful lot of noise, I don’t know what the neighbours will say!”

”Don’t sorry Mrs Hudson, Mycroft was just leaving” These words stung Mycroft like a blow direct to the heart, his breath hitched and he looked away from the keen eye of Mrs Hudson. She sighed and the sight of both of them.

”I see... well Greg, you’re very welcome to stay in my spare room until you sort out whatever this is, I’d be more than happy” she smiled over at them in an attempt to ease the tension, it failed.

"I think that would be for the best" He said calmly. He picked up his umbrella and left Baker Street.

  


The silence was a burden on the walls of 221b, tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. Cautiously, Mrs Hudson went and sat next to Greg on the sofa, opening her arms to him. To her surprise he leant into her, collapsing and holding her tight.

”I don’t know what to do...”

”Whatever you think is best dear... Should I call Scotland Yard? Tell them you’re not coming in today?”

Greg nodded weakly.

”Alright, tell you what I’ll make us both a nice milky cup of tea first, would you like that?”

He smiled, sitting up and wiping his tears eyes.

”Mrs Hudson, you are a saint, we don’t deserve you”

”Oh Greg love, don’t you think about that, you know I’d do anything for you boys. Now sit cosy, I’ll be back in a minute”

  


*******************

  


After a hard night Greg was glad to see the morning. He awoke to the smell of fresh breakfast tea from Mrs Hudson, though he'd have to admit it was this smell that sent him running to the bathroom. Molly was going to be arriving soon. In a panicked phone call she had agreed to check over his stitches and make sure he was ok. As angry as Greg was, he couldn't bring himself to have an abortion and Molly was the only available doctor who would understand and generally not question what had happened. He himself was stil, having troubles wrapping his head around it. Was he really pregnant? Sure, this was just a prank? The morning sickness said otherwise..

Words still could not explain how Greg was feeling. He slumped over the bowl of the toilet and thought about the eight months of struggle he had to come. The embryo implanted was already 1 month gone and it was driving Greg's body crazy. He ached all over and his abdomen still burned with the sore wounds upon it. All of his energy drained as he emptied himself rather vigorously. When it finally seemed to end he sighed and fell back to lean against the side of the bath tub, could he really do all of this on his own? Mrs Hudson appeared in the doorway and a look of sympathy filled her face.

"Greg dear, would you like any-" She stopped and sighed as Greg collapsed into tears. She quickly went to comfort the detective, kneeling on the floor beside him "It'll be ok dear..." Taking his hand, she helped him up slowly. "Come on, let's get you back up and onto your feet, I’ve made some pancakes if you can manage them!"

”Thanks Mrs H, you’re really too kind”

  


*******************

  


"I thought it would be...nice." Sherlock dabbed at his now re-bloodied nose with a piece of toilet roll. He really should note that Mycroft was excellent and destroying certain facial features.

"Nice is not the word I would choose for this situation Sherlock."

"Look, you wanted children didn't you!?!" He said spitefully.

They stared at eachother over the coffee table.

"That is no reason to act on things that have not been properly discussed! This is an unreasonable action to perform, even with my consent!" Mycroft had been at 221b since early that morning. Early enough to have heard Greg from downstairs and see Sherlock being awoken by it and then complain that he should be quieter. The anger at his little brother grew more and more every second. He had caused his husband this suffering and there was nothing he could do to help him.

"Well there's not a lot I can do about it now... I asked Graham" Mycroft ignored his error "and he said he was keeping it"

Mycroft looked up and stared at Sherlock in shock "He did?" Mycroft sounded like a child who was being taken to Disneyland and quickly tried to cover up what Sherlock could already plainly tell. He wanted to be a father more than anything. "I...Uhh...I shall make sure to consider all the options and see which are most appropriate." Greg's decision was the last thing he was expecting. He thought Greg was going to abort the child and leave him, an idea he hated. Perhaps this whole situation wasn't a completely terrible thing to happen... But what was he meant to say to Greg. He could still leave him...

Oh if Greg were to leave him... How would he cope? There was no one he loved more in the world. He could think of no one better to have his children even if it wasn't particularly...natural.

His brother smiled at him and stood from his chair; indicating towards the doorway, in which Greg Lestrade now stood; before leaving.

"How long you been here?" The sound of his lover's voice melted Mycroft. His tone was not angry but neither was it that of someone glad to see him.

"Not long at all..."

"Lies" He knew him far too well. Greg came into Mycroft's sight, he looked frail and clutched at his stomach as he sat in front of him. His face was blank, almost expressionless, but Mycroft could see his anger at him through this.

"How are you feeling?" Lestrade did not reply but rather gave him a look of disgust "Right... Well..." In his head he frantically searched for words "I...I did not want this predicament any more than you..." Mycroft looked up to Greg in hope for some kind of response... Nothing but his deep brown eyes staring back at him. He felt almost on the edge of tears. His head fell to his hands. _"He'll never trust me again"_ He thought _"He'll never...love me... I've been an.. An idiot, purely and definitely an idiot. I shouldn't have yelled, I shouldn't have-"_

"I know." His voice was soft as velvet but his look stayed the same. "Did you...want this?"

"I...I wanted a child but..No, not this way. Please Gregory, darling...Come home, we can talk"

"If only it was that simple Myc"

"There are ways, we could make this easier, we-"

"You keep saying 'we' but how do I know that I can trust you again? You’ve betrayed my trust completely! You went behind my back! You knew about this and now I’m here! How do I know you didn’t help Sherlock get me here? How do I know this wasn’t your plan all along? If you are a person who seriously thinks that what Sherlock did yesterday was only not ok because _he didn't ask_ -"

"N-no, not at all, that's not-"

"-then I don't think I know you at all, and everything Sherlock says about you is true, you’re cold and heartless. I should have known better."

Every word tore deeper into Mycroft. He was such an idiot. He didn't know when the tears had started falling, shattering his sham of a facade, but now they filled his face. Shaking, he looked down to try and regain some sense of dignity.

Silence filled the room as he struggled for words. Helplessness, he had forgotten what it felt like. If only there was a way to turn back time and avoid this situation completely. Honestly he would rather be dead than where he sat. 

But then it stopped...

  


The sudden presence of arms around him was confusing yet comforting.

"G-Greg?"

"Shhh"

The silver fox held Mycroft tightly, as though nothing had happened to him at all. They stayed like that for a while as Mycroft clung to Mycroft like he was the buoy saving him from drowning. Gently, Greg pulled away from the hug, now kneeling beside Mycroft.

"You don't have to get upset love, I know you didn't mean for this. I didn't mean to snap"

”I-I’m sorry”

”It’s ok, I still love you”

Mycroft blushed as Greg intertwined his fingers with his and used his other hand to wipe away the younger man's tears. Greg gently cupped Mycroft's cheek and drew him in for a deep passionate kiss.

Upon parting Mycroft was left a little speechless. He’d been through too many emotions these past two days, enough to fill a whole month.

"I did deserve it though"

"Yeah, you kinda did..."

Mycroft looked to Greg who was smirking.

"But I thought you just-"

"Shhh"

Another kiss to the lips halted their talking for quite some time...

  


Maybe things would work out after all


	6. Outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg and Myc go for a walk in the park

"How are you feeling?" Greg yawned and rolled over to catch a glimpse of Mycroft standing in the doorway with the finest breakfast he could lay his hands on upon a tray. He wore a cream shirt, which was tucked messily into his grey trousers, with the sleeves rolled up. Only Greg was allowed to see him in this state, and it made him feel extra-blessed. What a handsomely cute man he’d managed to marry. Greg slowly sat up from the bed, his hair a disaster, blue pyjama top hugging every muscle he had and their thick red duvet lain snug across his legs.

"Fine love, just fine..."

"Not...queasy? at all?" He asked tentatively.

"Not today, no...”

Mycroft sighed with relief and smiled as he entered the room properly, placing the tray on his side of the bed, next to Greg.

”Is this for me?”

"Of course! Eat as much as you like dear" The detective smiled, one hand settled lightly on the gentle swell of a baby bump, the elder Holmes kissed him on the cheek.

It had taken a little while for them to come to terms with the pregnancy and how it was all going to work but things were finally running reasonably smoothly. Greg was nearly four months gone with twins. Unexpectedly, the embryo Sherlock had implanted had split into two separate ever growing entities, destined to see the world in a Holmes light. Neither of their fathers were exactly "over the moon" about there being twice as many mouths to feed... Mycroft had fainted when Molly announced the "good news!" though Greg found this hilarious and reminded him as much as possible.

"I'll get fat" he said as he moved the tray to his lap. "Oh wait.. I'm already fat"

"You are not 'fat' Gregory darling" The man sat beside his lover "I think you look simply marvellous!"

"You're just saying that because I'm not by the loo, making your bathroom all dirty" With a fork he examined each item of food carefully. There was always curious cuisine whenever Mycroft was around...

"You can make my bathroom as filthy as you like dear" He said playfully, putting an arm around Greg.

"Oh please Myc, enough of that... What is this?" He lifted a strange green thing with his fork. "It looks like... _Eugh_ "

"It's good for you, why don't you try it?"

"Most of the food I love has made me sick, what makes you think new stuff will be any different?" Mycroft sighed and went over to draw the curtains "Looks nice out there...blue skies...I bet it's hot"

"Yes, it does look quite a pleasant day"

"Can we go out somewhere?" This wasn't what the British Government expected from his husband who had insisted, for at least a month, that they stay inside.

"Do you not have a work assignment today?"

"They gave me a day off... I want to go outside, feel the fresh air Myc!"

"I thought you were against that dear... What happened to 'People will think I'm a freak'!?!" He swept back through the room to sit beside Greg again "And you were not even showing when you thought that!"

"I'm not showing that much" He moved his other hand to his bump, swiftly joined by Mycroft's "Also...That was the worst impression of me I have ever heard" He mumbled through a mouthful of bread. Mycroft laughed to himself.

"I don't want to stay here..."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"Can we not go to the park or something?"

"The park!?! But love, the other day you couldn't-"

"Please Myc." Big puppy dog eyes filled Greg's face, the kind Mycroft could not resist. The elder Holmes sighed and smiled.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt dear" He ran his fingers through Greg's silver hair and the detective smiled with content...

  


********************

  


When Greg had gotten dressed his bump was invisible under his large grey trench coat. It was a lovely sunny day and the pair walked hand in hand through the trees. They had to stop often for Greg to rest. He had been out on all kinds of medication to ensure there were no "complications" and the strain on his body was immense.

Greg's phone went off in his pocket and he was quick to respond, pausing in his tracks as he read the text.

_I need the car back, no negotiation, I'll collect it tomorrow - Caroline_

"What is it?"

"Uh... It's nothing" He placed it back in his pocket and tried to walk on but Mycroft pulled him back. "Myc! Really it's nothing"

"All your emotional signals suggest irritation"

"Myc please... Not now"

"But not the kind you usually get from your job. No, you feel too fondly of your job to receive this kind of...aggravation. It's someone close...but not close at all... What does Caroline want now?" Greg glared at Mycroft.

"You know sometimes I hate you Mycroft Holmes..."

"Mutual feelings Gregory, for I simply cannot understand how a member of Scotland Yard can be so... 'pushed around', as you may say, by a single woman!"

"Myc, I don't think you've met Anderson...speak of the devil..."

Phillip Anderson made his way towards the couple from the other side of the park, waving and pulling along a small, excitable terrier by a leash. 

Suddenly, an expression of panic filled Greg's face.

"Darling are you alright?"

"He doesn't know..."

"Surely he knows! He was at the wedding!"

"No! Not that you idiot, the-"

"Lestrade!! Long time no see!! And Mr Holmes! You know I would seriously consider getting that brother of yours seen to..."  
Luckily for Greg, their relationship had reached the 'telepathy' stage. Through a series of looks and expressions he could tell Mycroft all he needed to know... 

_"He doesn't know about the baby Myc"_

_"What!?! But how could he not? You did tell the Yard the reasons of your absence, did you not?"_

_"...I guess I didn't exactly find the words..."_

_"You are an idiot Detective Lestrade"_

"So Greg, How've you been? Sick leave is it? There's a terrible flu going round, you should try eating more lettuce. It really helps the immune system!" Greg felt a little ill at the thought of it.

"Your advice is noted but I think you'll find Gregory is being taken good care of"  
"Ah yes, of course..." Anderson couldn't help but notice Greg looking quite worried. Many glances, from Mycroft to himself to wandering the surroundings, he was definitely uncomfortable. "Right...Well, I've got to get going now!"

"Ah yes! Of course! We should get home as well shouldn't we Greg dear?" Greg nodded and smirked slightly as the terrier almost pulled Anderson over in his attempt to catch a squirrel.

"Scotty! Bad dog! Uhh.. See you around then" He smiled and stumbled off, being almost dragged by the dog.

Mycroft held an inescapable glare on his lover. "I will phone Scotland Yard as soon as we get home. Don't argue with me, they need to know." Greg sighed as Mycroft dragged him down the path, insisting that they could still have a 'pleasant outing'...


	7. An Ordinary Working Day

"Sherlock!!"

"Yes Lestrade?"

"I'm not a scientific experiment!"

The pair glared at eachother, Greg's arms firmly crossed above his bump. He had watched as the man had sold him off as a lab rat to the other members of Scotland Yard. He was bragging about how he had created the perfect solution for gay couples, along with an incredibly intricate and sensitive description of how Greg had been reacting. John had been stood near, giving apologetic looks to Greg and trying to use the 'telepathy' technique on Sherlock to no avail.

"Excuse me?"

"You have no right to go spreading around my personal issues Sherlock!"

"They are not personal issues Lestrade, you are aiding my research, therefore anything you feel is purely contributing to my notes”

”Notes?”

”How else am I going to construct a theses and sample for the board without all of your medical documents and an accurate mapping of your lifestyle? Everything in this experiment has to be noted, everything you say do or feel is scientific property. If this method is to be a medical breakthrough these things simply cannot be ignored Lestrade!”

”Oh so I’m just some lab rat then, thanks for clarifying, makes me feel so much better”

”Don’t flatter yourself Lestrade, you’re more a guinea pig than a rat, rat’s are actually quite clever”

"No, I'm not having it, not here, and not now. You are here to solve a case and that is it! I don't care if I am a 'medical breakthrough' or not, there has been a crime and _damn right_ we are going to find the culprit. Nothing else, nothing at all, is going to be said Sherlock Holmes and if I have to call your mother then I will."

The room fell unsurprisingly silent... It was like everything just stopped and focused on both of them. John's mouth fell open in general confusion and fear of what either of them might do next.

"Fine Graham, whatever you say" Silently he moved on, examining the evidence lain out on the table and generally ignoring everyone who wasn't 'important'. Of course they were too busy being gobsmacked to make any comments. It was Dr Watson who was the one to break the silence...

"...Greg"

"Yeah?"

"You're going to be a bloody brilliant father."


	8. Day By Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft's job intereferes...

Mycroft had hoped that he could spend as much time as possible with Greg... Unfortunately his work did not permit this easily...

An issue had arisen that required Mycroft's full attention, and his absense from the house quite often. He would have to be in Paris for a few weeks, then straight over to Austria...gosh it was going to be a busy few months. Busy yet slightly indulgent. Austria was a lovely place to be at this time of year.

In short he was barely going to be home, but he informed Greg he would keep his phone on at all times for any "updates". 

Mycroft took his leave while the detective slept, having said his goodbyes the previous night. Time to get back to business...

  


**************

  


_wish you were here xxx -GL_

_Mutual feelings dear x -MH_

Mycroft leaving wasn't such a big deal for Greg. It happened all too often... And anyway the pair were both equally used to being alone but it is always a comfort to know there is someone out there who loves you dearly. Greg didn't think of how different he would be on his return. He just carried on...

The bump was now less of a swell and more of a sign of over-eating. In the past few weeks Greg had had a few "dietary tips" from several different people though he assured them Mycroft had him in the best hands, which he did. He received visits from John and would go over to see Molly at St Bart's every other week. He was progressing well and there were no current complications...yet he still forgot that a few months is a long time for someone in his situation... 

  


***************

  


**THREE WEEKS LATER**

_feeling a bit down so I took the day off xxx -GL_

_Good, even when not ill you need your rest. Have you taken something? I hear paracetamol is not recommended. Perhaps those iboprufen pills Molly recommended would be appropriate? x -MH_

_who needs rest when your falling asleep everywhere!! really, EVERYWHERE! and no I haven't taken anything but I will for you boss ;) xxx -GL_

_Noted, I must remember to buy you a travel pillow. It is important you rest, wherever that may be x -MH_

_sir yes sir xxx -GL_

_There’s no need for that darling, I merely care x -MH_

_sometimes too much x -GL_

_I have a meeting with the Austrian Parliament who I'm afraid are slightly more important right now. I shall have to leave you now to give me enough time to block you from my mind. I simply cannot save a government while worrying about very handsome detective inspectors. xxxx -MH_

_well aren't you the king of romance x -GL_

_I will speak to you again soon Gregory. Goodbye, take care. xx -MH_

  


**ONE WEEK LATER**

_myc, are you there? -GL_

_Honestly Greg, what were you expecting if I were not!?! -MH_

_i know stupid question. you relly should be here I can feel it I can feel th babies moving myc its, its so strange but wonderfl -GL_

_Gregory please make an effort to type slower, your errors are often hard to decode even to those accustomed to them. Despite this your news is marvellous and I hope I can share the feeling as soon as possible though I know that it is around next month, the six month mark, that this is possible and I may still be elsewhere. xx -MH_

_i miss you so much. i wish you could come home sooner xxxx -GL_

_You know that is impossible. x -MH_

_we’ll be waiting for you to come home xxx -GL_

_My perfect family, I miss you and love you dearly xx -MH_

  


******************

  


"The governors won't talk to you in that environment Mr Holmes!"

"Strange, I thought the office atmosphere would be perfectly fine...Very well, what do these men suggest?"

"They want to meet somewhere more personal sir"

"Personal!?!" Mycroft let out a small laugh "But Charles, my personal is private!"

"England does need this deal Mr Holmes."

"As much as my dignity?" This "joke" received a glare from the correspondent "Yes, right. If that is how it shall be..."

  


******************

  


It'd been a few weeks since he'd spoken to Greg and he would rather not until he was properly home. He did not like giving false hopes though he did it often in the workplace. It had almost completely slipped his mind that his husband would now be six months pregnant and definitely not as trim as when he'd left him. Still, he would quickly inform Greg of his presence...

"Gregory, Please stay out of the living room darling, I have an important meeting!" He shouted up the stairs before answering the door.

_...Get his clients comfortable..._

"This is a very nice place Mr Holmes"

"Yes it is, isn't it? I don't spend much time here honestly. England doesn't seem to stop for my comfort"

"Haha, yes, we have similar issues you and I Mr Holmes" the head of the group winked, laughing about the situation. "Never time for ourselves am I right? Work comes first. You know, when my wife's mother died I was in Slovakia, silly woman kept begging and begging for my return and I appreciate the weaker sex get emotional but some things take priority! It wouldn't surprise me if she was faking it and just wanted me back for a jolly good seeing to, you know what I mean?"

The man laughed, his companions joining in a mixture of genuine and fake laughter. Mycroft smiled at the gentleman but inside wished he could be making a deal with absolutely anybody else. Mycroft couldn't stand bigots...but what was, had to be.

From outside came the sound of footsteps.

"Did I just...was that just someone coming downstairs? The lady wife I suppose?" The government official smirked in a particularly pervy way that made Mycroft a little uncomfortable.

"Now, I have no idea what you're talking about! Perhaps it was the cat. Would you like some tea?"

_...Put the plan in the kitchen and go over it while making some tea..._

"So that's two sugars yes? Right" He closed the door quickly behind him, taking a moment to get into "business mode" only...

"Myc?"

Mycroft kept his focus on his work and didn't look up the man standing nearby.

"I thought you were in bed" He continued to move to the kettle, still not taking a glance at Greg.

"I got hungry..."

_One tea with two sugars, Two with one sugar, One with no m-_

"I've missed you."

Mycroft sighed "I have too dear" he picked up two cups and turned from the counter "but I really have to get ba-"

In one look, the skill of holding things escaped him. The two china cups shattered on the kitchen floor and it's impact was reflected in the shock on Greg's face...But it was Greg that sparked this sudden lack of control.

It wasn't just his lovely deep brown eyes that often melted his heart, his messy hair and stubble. Neither was it the fact that the man had taken to wearing Mycroft's dressing gown...

His blue pyjama top cradled the bump beneath it which was now rather large. One hand had rested gently on it before the breakage had startled the beholder. Mycroft wasn't sure what he was expecting but he was definitely taken aback by the changes. The world seemed to stop around him...

"Oh gosh! Myc! What is it? What's...nevermind I'll, I'll get a cloth. Are you, are you ok? Did it hurt you did it...I'll get that cloth"

"Uh..No it's fine I...Gregory" He grabbed some kitchen roll and started wiping the floor "You don't have to do anything just" He felt Greg's caring stare against him "Just let me do it it's...it's fine I...I"

"Mycroft, What is it?"

The elder Holmes jumped to his feet and abruptly left the kitchen...

Greg could hear his voice from behind the door, calm and collected aposed to the taunts he was receiving. He had upset...at least two of his guests. Now they were leaving. The detective rattled his mind for a motive for Mycroft's actions. Obviously he had a case of baby brain as he couldn't see what was literally right in front of him...

The door opened and their eyes met for the first time in too long. A sense of panic was received from both of them...but there was only one natural thing to do...

Their lips met and months of tension was instantly released. Greg clung on to Mycroft's collar as the other man ran his hands down his back, moving gently round. The hands settled on his growing abdomen and the pair broke from their passion, spending a moment just standing and smiling...

"So..." Greg struggled to find his words through grinning. "Are you gonna explain what that was then?"

"I just...forgot-Well, I..." His eyes fell to the bump "I wasn't really expecting you to be this...expecting" He laughed lightly at his use of words.

"Oh Mycroft" The realisation flooded his face "I completely forgot you hadn't-I shouldn't have come down. You shouldn't have sent those people away. I'm sure it was more impor-"

"Don't be so ridiculous Gregory, nothing is more important! I sometimes forget how much you mean to me..."

Lestrade was speechless. He just managed to stumble out an "oh" before Mycroft pulled him in for another kiss. The elder holmes pulled him into a tight embrace

"You will be pleased to know, I won't be leaving any time soon Gregory"

"You don't have t-"

"Do be quiet"

No time for responses. A deal sealed with a kiss...a really long kiss.


	9. I Ship It

"Seven letters...a term referring to fans supporting a couple..."

Mycroft ran his fingers through Greg's hair as he studied the crossword clues further.

"...canon, or not canon. Dear me, I do believe the writers are out of their minds."

"shppn..." Greg mumbled, stirring slightly from his comfortable position on the bed. He lay half upon Mycroft's lap who was using one hand to hold up his paper and the other to comfort Greg.

"Sorry dear?" You could say the glasses perched on his nose and the pen on his ear made him look sophisticated, but Greg thought it rather adorable.

"Shipping, when you like a couple, fans when they like someone they ship them... It's shipping!"

"I have never heard of such nonsense!!"

"It's not nonsense, haven't you ever wondered?"

Mycroft sighed, placing the paper on the bedside table.

"Wondered what Gregory?"

"You see these people being 'platonic' or whatever it is they call it...and wonder if...y'know"

"I don't know that I want to know dear..."

Greg shifted to a sitting position.

"You're telling me that you've never seen a show and thought 'I ship that'"

"Well having not known the term does make things rather difficult if you hadn't noticed."

"Yeah, but... You've not seen those looks between characters and thought...well... 'daaaaayum'"

Mycroft stared blankly at Greg, a sign that he was royally not amused.

"...'Day-Um'!?! I've never heard such codswallop"

"I think you need to trade in some of those fancy words mate!"

"I'm not your mate Gregory"

"Hmm debatable" Greg ran a hand over his bump and smirked at Mycroft who couldn't help but grin. He drew him in for a quick soft kiss.

Upon parting, they held eachother close, sharing a moment of pure and utter love.

"What are you suggesting Mr Lestrade?"

"That you stop being so bloody posh!"

"Impossible"

"But-"

" _And_ not under debate!"

"Fine, spoil sport... But at least learn some of my phrases, modern lingo could do you well! Maybe I could teach you some, the old fashioned way" He winked and smirked as he moved to undo Mycroft’s shirt. Mycroft blushed and grinned.

"You’re teaching methods are suspect Lestrade, I might have to report you"

”Shhhh” Greg whispered, giggling and blushing as he planted kisses on Mycroft’s neck. “Be a good student, I’ll teach you everything you need to know”

It was definitely a ‘lesson’ Mycroft wouldn’t forget quickly...

  


****************************

  


_Wassup fam -MH_

_I shall presume that Gregory has taken your mobile again brother dear -SH_

_Nah, me main man G is buzy shizzling the dizzle down the Yard inet -MH_

_Do you want me to contact mother? Are you having a moment again? -SH_

_Dude, does you h8 on my swag? Com @ me brother from the same parental figure -MH_

_I'll send you the number for the closest psychiatrist -SH_

_K bae, bye ily, ttyl x -MH_

_Please stop, this is making me feel highly uncofortable -SH_

_Mwah {attatched image: lovefromgreg.jpg} -MH_

_Brother, I did not want to see your husband's scrotum. I insist you seek help immediately. Goodnight -SH_

_P.S. I've seen better. {attatched image: purecleanjohn.jpg} -SH_

_Why thankyou brother. Now I can be sure of the physical relationship between you and Dr.Watson. When are you going to tell Mummy? She'll be most excited. -MH_

_Sherlock? Are you still there? Not worried I hope? -MH_

  


"Gregory, you'll be glad to hear, your guidance about the modern language has come to my advantage."

"That's great! Fifty points to Gryffindor!"

"...What?"

"Nothing... Oh, did something happen between you and Sherlock? He kept asking if you'd received any 'help', what's up with that? You're not ill again are you?"

"Oh no Greg darling, absolutely not, fine as can be dear" He smiled to Greg

"Kept looking up at those fancy cameras of yours, I swear he flipped one of them off!"

It was rather amusing when the screen had produced an image of Sherlock angrily waving his middle finger at the camera. What would have happened if it wasn't one of Mycroft's, he daren't say...

"And I swear he kept looking at my crotch... Has he gone off John or something?"

"I have _absolutely_ no idea...not a clue dear..."


	10. Just The Four Of Us

A sound from the other room woke Mycroft from his sleep. It wasn't incredibly noisy but Mycroft had always been a light sleeper. Through drowsiness he didn't quite know what the noise was and tried to ignore it. He instinctively reached out for Greg but found the other side of the bed empty. It was then he realised...

He slipped on his silk dressing gown and blue woolen slippers and went to find Greg where he thought he would be. As usual he was right. Lestrade was slumped on the sofa, looking rather uncomfortable, with one hand rubbing slow circles on his bump. He had turned the television on, Top Gear again... Mycroft watched him, he seemed so helpless, helpless like the children he carried. Part of him missed Greg before this "incident" had happened...

  


  
**Ten Months Earlier ******

"Mmm...Greg...Greg?"

"Shh go back to sleep, it's still early"

"....okay..."

Mycroft rolled over, his sleepy eyes catching a glimpse of his alarm clock which read-

"GREGORY!!!" Mycroft shot up.

"Jesus Christ Myc what is it!"

"Have you seen the time!?!"

"...yes?"

"I...I never get up this late..."

"Oh really?" Greg moved from his side of the bed to wrap his arms around Mycroft "You know they say 'never say never'" He planted a kiss on Mycroft's cheek.

"But...What if this silly routine becomes habit! What if I-"

"Shhh, It's our honeymoon. Both me and the whole of England are letting you lie in ok?"

"If I go back to sleep now I'll never forgive myself"

"Then maybe just stay in bed a little longer?"

"And do what Gregory, vegetate!?!"

"You could snuggle with your husband?"

"I don't 'snuggle' Gregory"

"Maybe you should start?" Greg lay down dragging a reluctant Mycroft with him and holding him tightly in his arms.

"Greg! Don't this...this is" Mycroft relaxed into Greg's embrace.

"What...comfortable? Or are you too much of an idiot to admit it?"

"Mmm..." Those words barely registered to Mycroft as he was lost in utter bliss.

"I thought so... Mr Lestrade-Holmes...I love you, you daft prick"

A beaming smile broke out on Mycroft's face...

They stayed like that for at least two hours.

  


**Present**

"Greg?" The man flinched, surprised to hear his husband's voice.

"Mycroft?...Wh-what are you doing up?"

"Well I-"

"Oh shh, go back to bed, it's too early..."

"I could say the same to you dear...Are you alright?" He didn't look at all at ease... 

Mycroft crossed the room to sit next to him. He slipped an arm around his partner's shoulders as he did.

"What is it darling?"

"...couldn't get to sleep...won't stop kicking"

"Oh Greg..."

He placed his free hand upon Greg's belly and kissed him on the cheek.

"Come back to bed dear, I'm sure it's much m-"

Mycroft froze, his eyes moved to his hand.

"W-was that..." Stuttered the most powerful man in England.

"What? O-oh, Myc, did you?" He shifted so he was less slumped on the sofa "Did you feel it? Myc? You felt a baby move, didn't you! Myc, say someth-"

"Gregory, I think that was the most fascinating sensation of my entire life."

The words slipped out so slickly and matter of fact. Both their faces lit up with love and pride. They shared a moment just smiling and blushing at eachother.

"Damn.." Lestrade muttered.

"What is it?" Mycroft's face turned to panic "Are you in pain?"

"No Myc, I'm fine"

"Oh..."

"I'm gonna have to beat this at Christmas now aren't I?"

"It's nearly Christmas!?!"

"Yes of course it is you idiot, where have you been? Wait, that was a stupid question..."

"But Greg, I have not bought any presents! And didn't Molly and John say the children were due a not long after Christmas? We don't even have any clothes for them! Do we even know the genders yet? Oh Gregory I feel so unprepared!"

"Hey, relax!" He kissed Mycroft on the cheek and placed his hand over the one Mycroft still held on his bump "There's plenty of time, no need to worry! We can go shopping tomorrow, if you want?"

"Are you sure?"

"Anything to keep you happy"

"...gosh this is all a bit back to front isn't it"

Greg laughed and Mycroft blushed in response.

"Yes, yes it is! But I wouldn't have it any other way Mr Lestrade-Holmes"

They slept on the sofa, wrapped in eachother's arms...

Christmas was coming fast, but they didn't need any gifts this year.


	11. A Grand Day Out

"Was the wig really necessary?"

"You said you didn't want people staring!"

"But I feel silly!"

"Well, you certainly look adorable."

"If you hadn't noticed, my eyebrows aren't ginger"

"No one will notice darling"

"I'm noticing! Why couldn't just pretend to be lady with short grey hair? Short amazing wonderful hair that isn't so orange it looks like someone's been having too much fun with matches!"

Mycroft sighed and dragged Greg into their first shop...

'Mothercare'

  


*****************************

  


"There's so much...stuff"

"Well what did you expect Gregory? A shop full of air?"

For that comment, Mycroft received a blow to the stomach.

The place really did have a lot, row upon row of stuffed animal toys on shelves above what seemed to be a thousand variations of cots, bassinets and cribs. The couple honestly didn't know where to begin.

"Jesus Christ Myc, have you seen the price of some of this!"

"No need to worry Gregory darling, we have plenty of money to spare"

"But Myc I, I couldn't possibly spend that kind of money!"

"Unfortunately for you, we have 'that kind of money' and if need be, I insist we use it"

Greg glared at Mycroft

"You really don't have any sense, do you?"

This remark puzzled Mycroft. You could almost see his brain working hard to decider what Greg had meant.

"Gregory darling, I'm afraid I have absolutely not idea what you are talking about"

"I'm not going to let you spoil our children to death Mycroft! We may have money but I swear, if either one of them end up taking anything for granted, I'm coming after you with a shovel!"

Mycroft laughed, to himself, much to Greg's confusion. 

"What the hell is it?"

"You, you're adorable when you're angry"

He carried on laughing. Greg wasn't convinced that Mycroft had taken in what he said. The elder Holmes stepped towards his husband and wrapped his arms around him. Lestrade looked up at him, still confused and a little irritated.

"My dearest Gregory" Mycost spoke in the lightest, most loving tone "If there is anyone on earth who knows how exactly stupid it is to spoil a child with gifts over emotion, surely it is myself. I simply wish that our children have the best that we can provide them with...but I guarantee you, my love, that our children will be as kind, caring, considerate and modest as the better of their fathers, perhaps more...if that is possible."

Greg blushed and grabbed Mycroft by the collar, pulling him into a kiss. Mycroft smiled, taking Greg's hands in his. 

"Come on now my love, we must carry on as I'm afraid two babies cannot fit in one onesie"

"Can't they wear matching?"

Greg definitely wasn't going to forget the look of horror that appeared on Mycroft's face. It was hilarious, and adorable...


	12. A Case of 'Winter Fever'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's that time of year...

"John, I did not ask for another scarf..."

Sherlock placed the gift back under the tree, still tightly wrapped in 'Merry Christmas' paper. Deducing gifts was a common occurrence but he must admit, John's face was always priceless.

"Well yours is getting so tatty, I thought you might want to replace it..."

Mrs Holmes called from the kitchen "Sherlock dear! Could you come and-" The doorbell rang, cutting her off "Oh, Er, John! Could you get that dear? And Sherlock, Your assistance would be lovely!"

As John started to go, Sherlock quickly pulled him in for a kiss. His cheeks quickly rouged and they stood, smiling and looking to eachother with adoration.

"Sherlock!!"

"Coming Mother!"

John was still blushing when he answered the door. Two bolts later and Mycroft stood, quite content, next to Greg who's efforts to walk from the car had tired him. Greg really couldn't handle much walking these days.

"Greg, Mycroft! You must be freezing, come in, sit down, Sherlock and Mrs Holmes are in the kitchen and Mr Holmes has gone to fetch some wine"

The pair stepped in, Mycroft's arm wrapped around Greg to support him.

"It's good to see you well John, there is a nasty case of flu going around"

"Oh yes, I know" He watched as the detective left them and slowly walked to the living room to rest his aching feet.

"Sherlock had it the other week, luckily I'm fine" John smiled but the reaction he received from Mycroft...he didn't quite trust. He had "detected" something and seemed smug.

"Very well then, Greg has done well to avoid it but I expect that has something to do with his time indoors..."

They both said no more and went to the living room. Lestrade had made himself comfortable on the sofa and Mycroft couldn't help but deem him 'adorable'. His hands had naturally settled on his bump and he had his legs drawn in as much as they could be. Once he realised they had entered, he indicated the elder Holmes to sit with him, which he did in delight.

"Can I get either of you a cuppa?"

"That would be lovely thanks John, milk two sugars ta!" 

"And Mycroft?"

"No thankyou John"

As John left the room, Mycroft shifted to sit with Greg in his arms. He ran a hand through his silvery hair whilst he helped the man remove his coat which was barely buttoned over his belly. Laying it aside, he let Greg lean into his embrace.

It was then that Mrs Holmes peered into the room, still holding a tea towel and a soggy mug, her apron stained with various food items...

"Oh Mycroft, darling! I thought I heard-" Upon seeing Greg she gasped, her face lighting up. He simply grinned back.

"Gregory, you look _absolutely_ marvellous!" She almost leapt onto the sofa beside him. "You poor dear, they must be causing havoc in there. And I thought one was bad enough! Especially Mycroft, he was a right little-"

"MOTHER!"

Greg blushed at the thought of a miniature Mycroft, his face nearly the same shade as the man himself's embarrassment...

  


*****************************

  


"Well, this is very...thoughtful, Sherlock" Mrs Holmes smiled at her son as she lifted 'A Fool's Guide to Parenting' from the dull black wrapping paper. Consecutively, a certain John Watson mentally wrote his last will and testament and buried himself in embarassment.

"John suggested I should-"

_Sherlock don't you dare pin this on me..._

"-get something that might be of use to you...

_Sherock, that's enough now!_

The 'telepathy' wasn't working, but it was worth a shot.

"...he even picked it up and showed it to me in th-

_SHERLOCK!!!_

"MRS HOLMES, YOU APPEAR TO BE OUT OF TEA" John leapt up, taking her tea-cup before disappearing to the kitchen. There was a shared moment of incredibly awkward silence...

"So..." Greg started, hoping to fill the room with sound other than that of Sherlock's brain working overtime trying to understand John "Is there anything for me under there?"

"Yes, of course Gregory! Now we got you something small towards the baby along with a bit of money for stuff here and there. I'll see if I can..." She went crawled across the floor to explore the area under the tree for the gift "...find it"

"Mother, we really are fine with money you know, you don't have t-"

Mycroft paused, squinting slightly, before...

"Myc? Are you o-"

***ACHOO***

Greg could have sworn that if they hadn't had double glazing the windows would have shattered.

"JESUS MYC!!"

"C'n you pass me a t'ssue?"

Sherlock reluctantly held out the tissue box for his brother-in-law to hand to Mycroft as Mrs Holmes crawled out of from the tree in shock.

"Thnkyou" He mumbled as he dabbed at his now quite rouge nose. As Greg looked over the man in concern, he noted his paler skin and an exhaustion in his eyes he hadn't noticed before.

"Are you ok Myc, can I-" Greg, reached his hand out to check Mycroft's temperature but it was batted away by the man himself.

"I'm fine, 'm fine..."

At that moment, John ran in looking quite startled.

"What hap- Oh, Is he ok?"

"I'm fine! Really I-"

As he prepared himself for a suspected sneeze, Greg seized the opportunity to feel his forehead.

"Fuck, John he's burning up!"

"GREG!"

John crossed the room to check Mycroft's temperature, the man still attempting to push away all hands near him and failing. The world's only consulting detective was finding this quite amusing, smirking to himself in the corner. His mother, however, wore a mask of worry and concern. A doctor's diagnosis, flu, as much as Mycroft denied it. Between everyone but the man they decided they'd get him to bed, Sherlock outright refusing to assist "that fat idiot" up the stairs. The job fell to John and Mr Holmes.

As they dragged Mycroft off of the sofa he seemed to finally be aware of his situation as he struggled to stay upright. He still battled against them though now it was more weak verbal taunts as they were the only things keeping him off the floor...

  


Of all the times to be ill.


	13. The Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some people can't be parted...

Greg sat, slumped at the bottom of the stairs. He rested his head in his hands, elbows resting as close to his knees as possible. He had become lost in his own little world of worry and concern, just waiting for news.

At some point he must have nodded off, he couldn't quite pick out when as John asked...  
"Are you alright?"  
"Me? Yeah, I'm fine but...is he ok?"  
"Yeah, sure! He's fine. Just that flu that's going round."  
"It's not just 'that flu' to him though. Myc he, he doesn't get ill John. Let's just say he's not trained in the art of recovery. I swear sometimes he has the immune system of a croissant..."  
John stifled a laugh  
“You see that's why you have to stay down here while he recovers!"  
"I guess you're right..."

With a friendly pat on the back, John left the detective to worry alone, and that he did...

'I can't just leave him up there...alone' he thought. Everything inside him screamed to act on these thoughts. Fight as he may, it was to no good.  
He slowly and quite un-gracefully pushed himself up, off of the stairs. His centre of gravity definitely wasn't doing him any favours. Upon turning, a great sight lay before him, a mountain he dared to climb.  
At the sixth step Greg ruled he would find a way to make this an Olympic sport. He had no idea what he was doing but he was doing it. What an idiot. It's seemed further down than up yet that wasn't the case. He listened out for a sign of his husband but the silence only made him more concerned.

****************************

Mycroft felt like shit, pure and utter shit. He lay, feeling sorry for himself with a bucket full of ex-internal organs sat politely beside him. The only thing he wanted was to be at home, wrapped up on the sofa in a blanket with a warm cup of soup, curled up watching repeats of Doctor Who with Greg. He didn't quite understand the logic behind Doctor Who...but Greg's delight in it had always made him feel better.  
John had told him he shouldn't let Greg come in. It had almost brought him to tears, all he really wanted right now was to be held tight by his husband. Of course, he couldn't jeopardise his health, or that of their unborn children.  
But what if he was ill for months? That would be terrible! Greg had threatened to call both babies Dave if Mycroft wasn't present for the birth. His own health was never any worry to him, but missing the birth of his children and then having to survive years of _"DAVE, DAVE, IT'S DINNER TIME!"_ that, he definitely couldn't cope with...

Mycroft counted the tiles on the ceiling for the fifth time. 23, it bugged him that it wasn't an even number. Suddenly there was a loud thud just outside the door followed by a "Shit!" in a familiar accent.  
"Gregory? Wh-what are you doing? Are you alright?" He called out  
"Right as rain love, don't worry!" Greg lied, rubbing his sore buttocks he had quite inelegantly fallen onto.  
"You shouldn't be up here"  
"Don't care"  


Greg crawled from where he was to lean against the door of Mycroft's room. All most simultaneously, Mycroft stumbled out of bed to sit by the same door, on the other side of course.  
"Are you ok Myc?"  
"I've been better...You shouldn't be up here!"  
"Don't care."  
Mycroft smiled, how stubborn yet sweet of Greg.

Lestrade couldn't restrain himself anymore, he reached up for the handle and turned it. The other man quickly grabbed the same handle in an attempt to stop the door for opening.  
"Gregory Lestrade-Holmes, don't you dare. I simply will not let you sacrifice your health for mine!"  
"And why not?"  
"Gregory darling, you and the children are all I could ever have wished for and-"

Suddenly, there was a strong pull at the door, Mycroft was too weak to fight it and fell forwards into the lap of his husband who smiled down at him.  
"Not complaining now, are we?"  
Mycroft fought a smile and a blush as Greg kissed him lightly on the forehead.

****************************

**ONE WEEK LATER**

Mycroft carefully carried a tray of finely lain out breakfast up to his room. When he got there, Greg was finally awake and looking a little better. Naturally, he had caught Mycroft's illness not too long ago.  
Mycroft gently handed him the tray of food.  


"Thanks love"  
"I told you you shouldn't have opened that door"  
"Totally worth it."


	14. Peace

Slowly, but surely, Greg gained consciousness.   
He felt a little numb, and tired...quite tired.

In this moment he felt like his every sense had been enhanced; the scent of coffee, the touch of nylon and cotton against his skin, the sound of hospital equipment. He opened his eyes taking in the sudden harshness of the light. 

"Is it over? Is it done?"   
"No, Gregory. It's only just beginning” Mycroft replied softly, lost in the awe of his angels; swaddled in blankets, one in each crook of his arm. He never wanted this moment to end, and it seemed no moment would ever be as perfect.   
He looked over at the bed and saw the Greg was crying, stunned by the sight of the three of them. Mycroft could feel himself getting emotional as well.

Slowly, he got up and walked over to the bed as Greg hurriedly sat up and held out his arms, anxious to hold the babies. Their son was smoothly passed into the arms of the Detective as the British Government sat beside him and cradled their daughter. They almost wondered if they realised what a weird and wonderful world they’d come into. 

“M-Mycroft” Greg could barely speak, emotions coursing through him. “They’re...so”  
“I know” Great, now they were both crying.   
In sync the pair leaned in for a kiss, a kiss that said all it needed to say: I love you, you’re perfect.   
They parted as Sherlock entered unannounced, followed shortly by and exhausted John.

“Mycroft! Greg! Congratulations!”  
John hunched over, catching his breath  
“I...I’m sorry I tried to-tried to stop him but-“  
“I hear it’s courtesy to bring a present to these kind of occasions but since my present was the occasion itself I deemed it unnecessary and bought myself a sandwich instead” He held up the box of sandwiched somewhat pleased with himself.   
Mycroft smirked.

“Since you seem so keen to see us, having not knocked or called, and it being so soon after their birth, one can only assume that you are actually elated. Seeing that this moment is so important to you, would you like to hold a child?”   
Sherlock turned white as a sheet.

“That’s a very generous offer but we have to leave now John, don’t we? Urgent matter, something about...moths. Yes. Definitely moths, moths in the basement. They killed a man“  
“Actually Mycroft, I wouldn’t mind holding her” John piped up garnering a look of shock from his partner. Mycroft and Greg smiled to eachother as John stepped over, gently their daughter was rested in his arms, and he was a natural.   
“Wow, she’s beautiful, a real heartbreaker”  
“Steady on there John, that’s my daughter you’re talking about” Greg joked.

The pair watched fondly as John marvelled at their daughter, he was beaming.  
This pure and beautiful moment was broken by a loud groan from Sherlock; “Look what you’ve done now Mycroft! Now I have to have one too!”

John’s heart exploded in that moment “I uh- um, I think you-y-you should take her, she needs her dad” he lay the baby in Greg’s arms and looked at over at Sherlock with a mixture of confusion, irritance, and arousal in his eyes.   
“You should probably go see to those...moths” Greg said with a wink.   
“Y-yes, moths. It was uh, lovely to see you, we’ll visit soon-“  
“No we won’t”  
“We will, we’ll visit, I’ll bring some babygrows and-“  
“Your presence was appreciated Dr Watson, now I understand there are matters yourself and my brother need to deal with, and likewise I require a moment with Gregory and the children. You are very welcome to take your leave.”  
John nodded and silently thanked them before leaving with Sherlock, walking in the direction of a cupboard rather than the exit.

The room fell quiet again as the couple lost themselves in awe. All walls were filled with an aura of love.

It was a day they would remember for the rest of their lives, the day their world became much brighter, the day they became a family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK MUM, I FINISHED IT!
> 
> IT’S NOT LIKE IT TOOK ME THREE YEARS OR ANYTHING


	15. Announcement!

SO, GUYS, HEY  
Thankyou so much for reading my fiction, I hope you enjoyed it!!!  
Apparently the only way of updating the finish date AND sending out notifications for the work is by adding a chapter

_Here I am adding a chapter looking all cool and hip and down with the times_

Basically what I wanted to say is:

**I just updated basically every chapter in this work**

For some that means _NEW MATERIAL_ and for others it’s just grammatical stuff

But I just thought you ought to know, I’ve essentially added a chapter with in the chapters (and I’m also planning on adding some more chapters, one with Mycroft and the kids and another one or two to bridge some of the really large gaps in time I have between chapters. Should be lit if I can find time to do it

ANYWAY, PEACE OUT, HAVE A GREAT DAY, AND STAY AWESOME!!!

-BB


End file.
